While You Were Sleeping
by SpikeFan4Life95
Summary: When a traumatic brain injury leaves Buffy in a coma, Willow tries a risky spell to wake her up. With Spike as the only option to save her, he's going to realize just how stubborn a Slayer can be, and what he's willing to do to get her to pull through her desire to stay. {Set in an AU post-Smashed season 6}
1. Chapter 1

"Buffy! Wait – oh, c'mon!"

The sound of Spike's heavy boots clomping on the pavement as he chased after her was annoying enough for her to just turn around with an exasperated sigh and rest her hands on her hips. Buffy rolled her eyes as she waited the few seconds for Spike to catch up. When he did, he shot her a brief dirty look before pleading his case.

"Look – I just want to help, yeah? These demons are tougher than they look and you're in over your pretty lil head," he explained with his hands shoved into his pockets as she resumed walking and he kept pace alongside her to the cemetery.

"Newsflash, Sid Vicious, _I'm_ stronger than I look. Slayer here, hellloooo," she retorted, vaguely annoyed he was doubting her and practically her shadow ever since she'd come back. She wouldn't think about the other things he was doing for her now either. That was a _whole_ other, messier issue that she honestly didn't want to deal with. Ever.

"Oh believe me, luv. I know," he replied with a leer. "The way you squeeze your – OW, bloody hell! What was that for!?" Spike grabbed at his now-bleeding nose and glared. "Wouldn't start this if I were you, Buffy. We know how this ended last time."

"You're a pig, Spike," her voice was no more than a seething whisper as she tried to hold in her anger. _How dare he throw that back in my face!_ It wasn't as if she wanted to revisit that now or ever. "I told you to stop talking about that. We're _done_ with whatever that was. It'll _never_ happen again. Ever!"

Spike went to follow her as she stormed off, but she was expecting it, and all the time she'd spent around Spike made her senses perfect at locating him without looking. In a movement too quick for even Spike to follow, she spun and kicked him square in his chest. Fueled by the anger pounding through her bloodstream, the strength of the kick caused him to fly backwards at least a dozen feet and land in some thorny bushes. Her enraged gaze met his and the betrayal and hurt that flashed in his eyes caused her to momentarily falter until his eyes clouded over with anger to hide his true feelings. She started to turn away from him and continue her walk in peace, but the venom in his next words froze her.

"Don't expect me to let you come crawling back to me when you get an itch you can't scratch, Slayer!"

He yelled after her from his place still firmly planted in the bushes, but she recovered from the bite in his tone and kept walking, lifting her head high, showing dignity she didn't feel like she had anymore. She was the Slayer, she was supposed to be stronger than this. Most Slayers probably hadn't died and come back as much as she had, but it didn't matter. With Faith locked away in a jail cell, Buffy was the only thing between Sunnydale and the forces of darkness. This post-resurrection depression just needed to let her be, but she knew it wasn't that easy. It was clinging on for dear life and turning her into something she didn't want to be.

"Don't expect me to come crawling," she murmured under her breath, but even to her the words lacked conviction. Being with Spike . . . in that moment it had been . . . easy. She'd sated some part of herself that needed that fury and passion, and now she craved more, but with Spike it was coming with way too many strings, and so far he hadn't failed to remind her how terrible of a person she was for obviously using him. It was making her sick inside.

Spike watched her walk away from him and felt that all too familiar pang in his chest. _You can't love without a soul, my arse_, he thought with a shake of his head (which he soon regretted since he was covered in thorns at the present). He'd be bloody better off if he couldn't love the bitch. Buffy with her damn luxurious locks, piercing green eyes, strength, passion . . . _Oh bollocks._ Spike sighed and attempted to push all thoughts of Buffy out of his head and he began the painful process of making his way out of his thorny predicament.

While Spike was throwing out every curse word he knew, Buffy was nearing the cemetery gates and readying herself for a fight. These demons had broken into the magic shop and stolen a few things, so at Anya's "request," Buffy was taking the monsters out. Admittedly, she was going in here half-cocked, but she figured beheading worked on basically any demon-y thing she'd encountered, so she didn't feel much cause for alarm. Also, if she hadn't escaped from everyone's pitying looks when she did, she might have beheaded _them_.

Buffy paused when she reached the middle of the cemetery. Her tinglies were going crazy, but there were still no demons in sight. _Wimps_. She casually pulled her sword out of her weapons bag and hefted it in her hand before she let her bag drop to the ground.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to keep a lady waiting?" She called out tauntingly and realized she was feeling a little reckless. It was just a run of the mill slay anyways – no matter what _Spike_ said. When seven burly demons stepped out of the shadows though, she started to change her mind.

"You heard her boys – let's not keep her waiting."

Without more warning than a couple guttural snarls, the demons charged her all at once. She readied herself and her first arc of her sword cut through the midsection of one of them and splattered her with demon goo while it howled and fell to its knees. The rest of her fight didn't go so easy. Before she could even mentally celebrate her small victory, a blow to the side of her head nearly knocked her sideways and momentarily sent her world spinning. She felt blood trickling down her face, but she fought back with all she had. The sound of fighting filled the graveyard as they punched, kicked, and stabbed each other and Buffy slowly but surely worked her way through three more demons, but she was wearing down a lot faster than she'd been expecting.

In an attempt to catch her breath for at least a few seconds, she bolted towards one of the headstones and leapt onto it in order to jump from it to reach the top of one of the mausoleums. As with her luck for the night, she landed a little wrong and twisted her ankle enough to send a jolt of pain through it, but adrenaline quickly masked the pain when one of the demons leapt from the ground and landed in front of her. It was using a human femur as a makeshift weapon (talk about ick factor) and Buffy would have felt a bit ridiculous sword fighting like this, but she was too focused on kicking this nasty demon's ass.

"Buffy! Look out!"

The yell startled her and all she managed was a confused "huh?" before she felt a blinding, searing pain on the back of her head and was suddenly flying through the air. Her head smacked against a tombstone with a sickening crack, and the last thing she saw was a blurry, fading image of two demons chortling and holding a tombstone on top of the mausoleum she'd been fighting the third demon on, and a swirling leather coat as it leapt up to fight the demons she'd left behind. Her lips formed together to shape the word _Spike_, but no sound came out and the world suddenly went black.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** I suppose I should go ahead and say that I don't own BtVS/the characters (wouldn't mind having Spike to myself though), etc. The only thing here that's mine is the plot idea and the writing. Hopefully this won't be a slow build up to the main chunk of the story, but there's probably about another chapter or two before Spike's main role in this fanfiction is revealed. Lemme know what you guys think in the reviews!_

* * *

Rage. Pure, blinding rage was racing through Spike and practically searing his insides when he went after the demons that attacked Buffy. He'd bloody well told her not to go charging in by herself, and now he was letting the rage take over so he didn't have to worry about her crumpled body on the ground – for now. If he let his thoughts linger on her current state, the demons would have a hay-day beating the tar out of him too. A feral growl rumbled through his chest and his eyes flashed yellow. In moments, his fists and fangs pounded and tore through flesh like it was nothing, and while he was getting it about as good as he gave, the pain didn't register. In fact, nothing registered until he was standing there panting with his fists, face, and clothing coated in the blood of his foes, and three gooey piles were all that was left of the demons he'd been fighting.

Hoping that the pain wouldn't catch up to him soon, Spike jumped from the mausoleum and ran towards Buffy for the second time that night, but this time the consequence was far more dire than a busted up nose on his part. Crumpled on the ground like she was, he had a temporary, intense jolt of fear that she was dead, but he could faintly hear her heart beating, and if she wasn't so battered and in need of immediate attention he would have cradled her against his chest and cried in relief. As it was, she was almost unrecognizable under all the blood and bruises, and he knew if he didn't do something soon, she'd be in even worse trouble. Spike carefully gathered her up in his arms and lifted her. She weighed practically nothing to him, but the fight was catching up to him and he was far more slow going than he would have liked to be as he limped out of the cemetery as fast as he could.

Spike paused when he reached the main drag of Sunnydale and hesitated. She might receive better care at the hospital, but he knew how she hated them and knew far too many questions would be raised, so he ran off in the opposite direction towards The Magic Box and hoped he'd made the right decision and that he'd arrive in time to save her.

* * *

"So why exactly am I looking at a HomeGoods magazine again?" Willow asked as she half-heartedly flipped through scenes of furnished rooms straight out of Suburbia. Anya glanced up at her from her Bridal magazine and sighed like Willow was asking the most asinine question imaginable.

"Because! Xander and I went and made our registry and now you have to buy me things I want," the ex-demon retorted with a beaming grin. She still valued money and things more than most humans seemed to, but they made her happy. Xander merely offered Willow a shrug of his shoulders in response to Anya's antics. Some days he didn't feel like bothering with correcting her.

The conversation likely would have gone elsewhere – such as Anya's obsession with blood larvae burlap sacks for the bridesmaids – if Spike hadn't nearly busted down the door at that exact moment. An indignant "hey!" left Anya's lips while she worried about the state of the door before they all realized the reason for his abrupt entrance.

"Got a Slayer-shaped problem over here," Spike practically croaked out, looking like he was about to tip over. Willow yelled for Anya and Xander to help her settle Buffy onto a couch in the back room near her workout area. Spike leaned back against the wall and caught his breath. Those demons had done a number on him, and he was surprised Buffy had fought off as many as she had. He was bleeding and basically a walking bruise, and yet Xander still had the nerve to shove him hard against the wall.

"What the _hell_ happened to her, Spike!?" Xander demanded, shaking Spike – who was too tired and upset to even put up any resistance. Taking her eyes off Buffy, Willow told Anya to grab some wet rags to clean Buffy up with, and then she turned and yelled at Xander.

"Xander! Stop it, dammit! We need him so we can figure out what happened," the air seemed to spark around her as her emotions got the better of her, but it caught Xander's attention and he had the sense to go grab the med kit they kept around for times like these.

Willow's eyes widened when she saw the extent of Spike's injuries. That alone was enough to convince her that he hadn't played a part in what happened – well, that and the knowledge he _definitely_ still had feelings for her. "Spike, what happened?" She asked in a soft voice before casting a quick spell to relieve some of the pain his injuries must have been causing him. It didn't heal anything – hopefully a few mugs of pig's blood would do the trick for that – but she saw him breathe an unnecessary sigh of relief when she finished casting it.

"Red, you gotta check her head. Those demons – the ones you gits had her charging after – did a number on her. She ran off on her own after I tried an' offered to help, an' the next thing I know it when I catch up, she's gettin' knocked in the back of the skull with a soddin' tombstone an' flyin' across the damn graveyard. Don't remember much after that. Demons are history though." His accent was heavier than usual as the stress of the situation got to him, and when he glanced down at his hands that were coated in a strange black fluid, Willow caught his drift about the demons. It sounded to her like he flew off the handle after what happened to Buffy. "Didn't think a hospital would be the best place, too many questions . . . can you fix her, Red. Hell, you brought her back to life, surely you can heal her right on up, yeah?"

Willow wasn't a fan of his tone his question was asked in nor the look he gave her that accompanied it, but she didn't have time to deal with Spike being a bit of an asshole. Pushing him aside, she went to check out the extent of Buffy's injuries. Anya scurried into the room with a bounty of wet rags and started wiping at the blood staining Buffy's face while Willow carefully placed her hands on the sides of Buffy's head and mumbled a spell under her breath.

"Manifesto!" She exclaimed at the end of her spell and her eyes turned black as the inside of Buffy's head was revealed to her. It was like looking at a MRI scan of her brain, and even though she wasn't a doctor, it didn't look good. Buffy's brain was swollen and blood was pooling and building pressure in her skull. If Spike had come any sooner . . . she didn't want to think of it. With great effort, Willow was able to focus and heal up the worst of her injuries, but now it was mostly in Buffy's hands if she wanted to wake up.

Willow stumbled away from Buffy and would have fallen if Xander hadn't caught her as she fell into him. She was entirely drained and her head was throbbing painfully, but she couldn't help but think of how wrong Tara was to want her to quit magic. Look at the good she had done! Sure, the currently bleeding nose wasn't exactly fun, but she'd saved Buffy's life!

"Oi, what'd you just do to her, Red?" Spike asked and gave Anya a brief smile and nod of thanks as she scurried in the room with a mug of pig's blood and handed it towards him. Spike's gaze drifted towards Willow – who was now holding a rag to her nose and sitting with her back against the wall – and he couldn't help but wonder if she was getting too far in with the magicks she was meddling with.

"Just poked around in Buffy's head and healed up the brain trauma, but . . . I'm still not sure if she'll even wake up," she admitted with a sigh. The intense high was starting to wear off already, and she was feeling a tad hopeless about Buffy waking up anytime soon. "She's in a coma. I couldn't fix her up completely, but her injuries shouldn't kill her. If she wants to pull through, she will." Willow sighed and her heart was heavy with the knowledge that Buffy probably didn't want to. She didn't want to be among the living anyways – Willow's heart twinged a bit when she remembered Buffy's song about her being in heaven.

There was silence in the room before Xander was the first to break it. His howl of rage was all the warning Spike got before the whelp's fist slammed into his cheekbone and eye. His empty mug flew from his grip and shattered on the floor. "It's _your_ fault! For how much you whine and pine after Buffy you sure _suck_ at actually helping her!"

Spike's eyes filled with anger and before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Xander by the shirt and held him against the wall, careful not to actually hurt the idiot and risk setting off his chip. "You listen here you pathetic git, at least _I_ was out there with her. Hell, if you'd been with her you'd both be dead right now. What were you doin', mate? Lookin' at flower arrangements? Real productive of you." While Xander sputtered at him, Spike let him go and stalked off out the back door and he slammed it behind him. He'd be back to visit Buffy (and Dawn to make sure she was coping alright) in the morning, but for now he needed to have a smoke and nurse his wounds. He had a feeling there wasn't a natural solution to the Slayer's coma. If Willow could fiddle around with her powers and 'fix' Buffy, then Spike wanted to be around when it happened. Willow's spells never ended well for any of them.


End file.
